


Only a Pilot

by ladygabe



Series: Interludes: A Series of Moments in Poe Dameron's Life [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Not everyone in the Resistance is A-OK with Finn, Poe is BFFs with every droid on base, Pre-Relationship, Stormpilot, With some protective Poe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:32:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5812198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygabe/pseuds/ladygabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On first glance, the ranks of the Resistance seem perfectly understandable to Finn. Poe, however, seems to live outside of them.</p><p>AKA, Five Times Finn thought that Poe might be a Big Deal in the Resistance, and One Time it was confirmed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only a Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Someone was a hero in their own right and posted the Resistance ranks from _The Force Awakens Visual Dictionary_ , and I haven't been able to stop thinking about them since. They are, greatest to least, as follows: General/Admiral, Colonel, Commander, Major, Captain, and Lieutenant.

One. 

Back when he had only had a designation, not a name, FN-2187 had sat, half-forgotten, in the office of Captain Phasma’s Psychological Evaluator. His scheduled testing was being postponed, more by the indifference of his superiors than any true obstacle. Most of the galaxy thought that Stormtroopers were little more than droids, following orders and never letting little things like gossip occur among their ranks, but in truth, as soon as the officers had disappeared, Stormtroopers spoke freely. 

“I hear he’s from the Resistance,” the guard said, while FN-2187 watched quietly. 

“On that dustbowl?” The Evaluator’s disbelief was laced with curiosity. 

“You know what they say,” the guard answered with a shrug. “They’re like dianogas. Get everywhere no matter what you do.” 

“Is he someone important, then?” Being constrained to the innards of _The Finalizer_ by his specialization, the Evaluator rarely got to experience anything exciting. Certainly nothing like an important member of enemy being just a few floors away. 

“I don’t think so,” the guard said, shaking her head in her helmet. “I heard General Hux and Captain Phasma talking about him. He’s got some important info, but apparently he’s just a pilot.” 

_He had a map_ , FN-2187 thought to himself, but he did not share that information out loud. 

The Evaluator sighed, shoulders slumping in disappointment. “Too bad,” he said, turning towards his patient now. “I always wanted to see one of the Resistance’s head honchos.”

As he carefully answered the Evaluator’s questions, FN-2187’s mind was spinning. So perhaps the man that they had captured had been no one of real consequence, but he was a _pilot_. 

FN-2187 was going to need a pilot. 

 

Two. 

The reunion had been a bright spot of hope that Finn had desperately needed. He had mourned the man he had failed, the man who had given him a name and, however briefly, showed him how different the world was outside of the confines of the First Order. Seeing Poe Dameron alive and bright and shining like a sun told him that not all was lost, that someone might do more than just _run_ and still survive. 

The only other souls Finn knew on a base full of potential enemies were a smuggler and a Wookie, and they had ditched him without a word. So he reached out to the pilot, daringly optimistic that he could do something to help. 

Apparently, Finn had chosen well. He had expected opposition; he was a stranger amongst a very recently wounded people, most of whom had no reason to trust him. But they did no more than cast him curious glances as Poe led him into the base. Even the armed guards at each level did not question them, letting them pass without comment. 

Finn nearly had a heart attack when he realized the small woman Poe had interrupted was the General of the Resistance herself. His concern for Rey, however, overrode any intimidation he felt. He did not know how Poe had gotten him to this woman so fast, what strings he had somehow pulled to be able to escort a _Stormtrooper_ into the heart of the Resistance base, but he counted himself lucky. 

 

Three. 

It occurred to Finn that it was strange that Poe was a part of the War Council. Here was a room full of senior Resistance officers, half of whom had been Rebel Heroes, clad in sharp brown uniforms with their ranks displayed on their chest, and Poe was standing in the midst of them all, curls still tousled by his helmet and wearing only an orange flight suit. Not just standing, but leading the meeting, hands at the controls for the holo projector they were crowded around. 

Yet then again, they were focusing on Finn as well, taking his advice, and he had barely any idea what he was talking about. He was just a solider, he had told them, but they treated him as a fount of all knowledge. 

On the way out to the tarmac, Finn asked Poe about it. “Everyone seems to listen to you,” he pointed out, making the pilot laugh. “Why is that?” 

“I’m cute,” Poe answered with a wink, playful as if they were just heading out for a joy ride, not a full-scale assault on an enemy base. 

Finn made a face. “I mean, I guess what I mean to say is, are you a Big Deal? A Big Deal to the Resistance?”

Poe laughed again, giving Finn a playful shove as he started off towards his X-Wing. 

“Of course I am,” he called back, his grin bright. “I’m the General’s favorite!” 

Finn watched him go before finally shaking his head, simply chalking it up to the fact the Resistance was _weird_ and did not put near enough emphasis on their ranks. 

 

Four. 

Dinner time at the Resistance base was an adventure. Even on normal days the Mess lived up to its name, loud and chaotic and crowded. Tables and chairs were never in the same configuration twice, and no one had assigned seating. Tonight was some sort of celebration that Finn could not begin to understand, but what it came with was better than average food and a heavy supply of alcoholic beverages. Finn was squished between Poe and Jessika Pava, surrounded by the pilots that were Poe’s comrades and friends. They had become his safe zone, in a base still full of too many strangers, and he was extra glad to have them as a buffer between him and the crowd tonight. 

He was feeling companionably warm from the bubbly drink he had been given when he heard a loud voice say his name. 

“Yeah, sure, _just_ on time. Real lucky for us –“ The man who had staggered up to their table was unfamiliar to Finn, but had obviously had one too many of the bubbly drinks. He fixed Finn with a beady stare, face unattractively flushed. “Couldn’t have warned us _before_ everybody died, now could he? Not suspicious at all, that he only shows up once the Republic is dead –“ 

Finn felt his mouth go dry. Anger warred with a deep flash of guilt as he struggled to find a response. In the end, he did not have to.

“Captain!” The title was snapped right next to Finn’s ear. 

Poe disappeared from his spot beside Finn and was around the table in seconds. Despite his lack of height, there was no doubting his presence when he took the man by the front of the shirt and jerked him down to face him. 

“Captain,” he said again, his tone more even but no less dangerous. "You are drunk. You are _done_. Go back to your quarters and sleep it off.” 

Finn was halfway to his feet. The drunk had a good head on Poe, and biceps as big around as the pilot’s thigh. 

But he apparently had no need to be worried. The man swallowed hard, the anger in his face shifting to shame. “Sir. Yes, sir.” Poe let him go. The drunk stumbled off into the crowd. 

Poe flopped back down in his seat, letting out a breath with a smile. “Another round?” There was a cheer from the pilots, and the night went on. 

 

Five. 

The drunk was the first Resistance fighter to take issue with Finn’s past, but not the last. Most of it came in the forms of backhanded compliments and vague insults, which bit into Finn’s confidence but were not serious enough to take issue with. There were plenty of people who treated him kindly, even with a strange sort of awe, to balance them out. 

He really had not expected the fight. A lifetime of training served him well when he found himself three-against-one in the back of the hanger early one morning, fending off angry punches and kicks. Insults had turned into rage when Finn had not been able to give the three recruits whatever answer it was they were looking for. An astromech droid was shrieking something, beeping wildly as it circled the group, but Finn could not understand if it was rooting against him or asking them all to stop. 

“What the hell?” The shout distracted Finn enough he missed the kick aimed for his leg, causing him to crumple down onto one knee. He brought his arms up to protect his head, fear twisting through him as he tried to figure out how he would protect himself against four. Instead he heard the yelps of his assailants, and the sharp sound of a someone hitting the floor. He glanced between his forearms to see Poe and Snap now between him and the three recruits, one of whom was on the ground, fingers pressed to his bloody nose. The other two had quickly straightened to attention, their eyes wide in sudden fear. 

“What’s going on?” Poe snapped, looking first at his assailants and then to Finn. There was no answer. Finn’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was cause more hard feelings by getting the recruits into trouble. Seeing no response was forthcoming, he turned to the droid. 

“R5-G8, what happened?” The droid let out a long series of beeps and whirs. Finn felt his heart jump in his chest as he once again questioned the droid’s loyalties. The darkening looks on Poe and Snap’s faces did not help his composure in the least. 

It was the recruits who Poe whirled on. “Get up,” he growled at the one still on the ground. The young man quickly scrambled to his feet. “You, report to the MedBay and get your nose patched up. Then all of you will report to your quarters and you will stay there until you are called for. Your senior officers will be getting a write-up for each one of you.” There was a quick flurry of protests, but Poe cut them off. 

“It’s not a debate. _Go_.” The recruits scattered. To Finn’s surprise, Snap chuckled. 

“Do you even know how to write someone up?” the man asked his friend, suddenly grinning. Poe made an unflattering face at him. 

“I’m going to learn just for them,” he shot back, before turning to Finn. Finn forgot about asking him how he had the authority to write anyone up right away. 

So sue him. He was pretty sure no one else on the base would want to stop Poe once he started fussing over them, either. 

 

One. 

Finn had found himself having a surprising number of meetings with the General herself. Just when he was sure she had picked his brain for every scrap of information he had ever known, she came up with another line of questioning only he could answer. 

He had reluctantly had to extract himself from Poe’s ministrations to hurry to one such meeting. General Leia was never unkind, but he never felt quite comfortable sitting in front of her, even as he gave her everything she asked for. It was a relief when C3P0 shuffled into the room, already talking before the door had completely opened for him. 

“Time for your daily news, General. Oh! Dear me, were you in a meeting?” Leia looked bemused, sitting back in her chair. 

“I can take a minute,” she said, before motioning to Finn. “Do you mind?” He quickly shook his head. There was no way he was going to tell the General no to anything, and, in any case, he was curious to hear what her apparently daily news bulletin would contain. 

Most of it was not as exciting as he had hoped. A lot had to do with the levels of supplies and the movements of refugees from the Hosnian System who had been fortunate enough to be outside of it when it had been destroyed. 

“Oh!” C3P0 continued, after a long ramble about the number of bacta strips left in the MedBay. “I have a message from Poe, as well.” Every droid on the base, Finn had found, always called Poe by his first name, even if they normally defaulted to titles or surnames. It had been something Poe himself had requested and, apparently, even recoded some droids to allow them to do so. When Finn had asked why, Poe had merely shrugged and told him that it was what everyone else called him, and that he did not think droids should be excluded. 

“Do you?” Leia lifted her head, one eyebrow arching upwards. 

“Yes! He told me that he wrote letters of admonishment for Privates Taka and Renolo, as well as Lieutenant Verress. He wanted to inform you that he, quote, ‘filled the forms out all proper like an adult’ and that you should be proud of him.” Finn was not sure he had ever heard Leia laugh before. It was a delightful sound, one that he had a feeling was all too rare. 

“Tell the Commander I am very proud of him,” she responded lightly. Finn choked on his own spit. 

“ _Commander?_ ” he sputtered, making both the General and droid look at him in surprise. “Poe’s a _Commander_? Since when?” Finn had memorized the ranks of the Resistance before he had even gone to Starkiller. Many of the titles had been similar to the First Order, but their organization had been significantly different. 

Finn had thought Poe was an officer, perhaps even a Captain with the way he led the fleet into battle. He had never imagined that he was within two ranks of being equal the General herself. Everything fell into place. No wonder the guards had not stopped them. No wonder he had been at the head of a War Council. No wonder Captains and Lieutenants alike had obeyed him. 

Finn thought for a moment about how very stupid the First Order had been, to capture a mere “pilot” and think his only worth was the knowledge of Skywalker. 

When he returned his focus to Leia, he found her smiling, much too amused. 

“He _is_ a Big Deal,” Finn finally said, sounding sullen even to his own ears. 

Leia laughed again, that wonderful, happy sound. “Yes, Finn. That he is.”


End file.
